Love
by SodaFiz
Summary: The happy lives of Troll Village get destroyed, leaving Branch and Poppy to survive through waves of walking dead. They must now face the world together and fight for their very lives while their growing feelings complicate things, but are they really alone? Are there others still out there? Can they find the source of this madness? (Trolls Zombie AU).
1. Attack

**A/N: I don't know if any of you remember me saying something about this in a chapter of Beautiful Thing, but in case you haven't:**

 **This is a Trolls Zombie AU. Yep, you read that right. In honor of Halloween I'm making a zombie apocalypse AU based in the Trolls universe.**

 **There's definitely gonna be a lot of Broppy, with also some Creek and a few cool OCs. This whole story has been planned for months now, but a friend of mine suggested saving it for Halloween, so here I am posting it on October 1st (at least it's the 1st for me; it might not be for someone else because I'm posting this around midnight my time).**

 **This is going to be a lot darker than Beautiful Thing so readers beware of a lot more intense scenes, but it'll be a lot more interesting. Although this is being written for Halloween, knowing my sporadic update schedule and the crazy length of this story I have planned, it'll probably go past October.  
**

 **Anyway, I'm so excited to finally post this story. I hope you all enjoy! Expect the next update soon!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Attack**

" _Shhh._ " Branch placed his finger over Poppy's lips, gently silencing her. Her mouth shut instantly, for they both knew well the dangers they faced.

Twilight was approaching, but the sun had yet to completely dip beyond the horizon. The trees around them swayed in the gentle spring breeze. The plant life was bright and colorful, but that mattered little to any Troll now, not since the _incident._ In all truth Branch and Poppy had yet to know where they were going or what they should do. _Survival,_ that was all that mattered now.

Branch's sensitive gray ears twitched as he strained to pick up the familiar but haunting sound of a growl, moan, or limp through the foliage. Next to him his pink companion shifted a foot closer to him. Glancing at her face, Branch saw the smallest tremble in her demeanor. He was about to place a hand on her shoulder when a sudden growl caught his attention.

It came from the right. Without a second thought Branch turned and fired the crossbow grasped tightly in his fingers. The bolt struck the chest of another gray Troll that had just emerged from the undergrowth. It fell with a cry, groaning and twitching in the dirt.

Wincing, Branch forced himself to venture toward the thing. It was gray like him, but its eyes were hazy like a fog clouding its inner mind. Its flesh had taken on a sickly, sunken decayed look. It was a young walker, barely infected with whatever virus they had suddenly encountered just a day or two before.

Bracing himself, Branch fired another bolt, this time into the Troll's head. It buried itself within the zombie and the victim stopped its squirming. Branch fired one more bolt into its head just to be safe, but it was unnecessary. The zombie Troll was gone for good this time. Not dead and reanimated, just _dead_.

Branch turned his attention from the dead zombie and back to Poppy. She stood a few feet away, her hands shaking around her own crossbow. Her eyes were so wide they looked about to pop out of her sockets.

"You alright?" murmured her companion.

The princess had tears in her eyes. "No," she choked back. "Branch… I know… I know that we've already gone over this, but.. is this really necessary?"

"Yes, Poppy." He looked back at her with a pained expression. Even he, Branch the survivalist, could barely bring himself to kill the walking corpse of someone who had once had thoughts, memories, and feelings. It was a sickening thing to do, but necessary for survival. "They..." He almost choked over his words. "They're not _them_ anymore. They're dead, or at least dead in the sense that there's no hope for them ever going back to normal. Not right now anyways."

"But-" Her sentence was cut short when another snarl met her ears and the body of a zombified llama Troll, its eyes hazy, its hair a gray-black and its four-legged body sunken and showing signs of decay, headed straight for her.

 _"POPPY!"_ Branch's scream was strained, his tone cracking in desperation.

Without a thought the princess turned and, a look of horror on her face at the thing running toward her, raised her crossbow. The bolt hit the Troll squarely between the eyes. In one shot she had it down and squirming on the ground.

With a squeak she found herself yanked backward away from the growling corpse. Branch's hand was around her arm. He planted himself between her and the zombie and finished it with a final shot from his own weapon.

A wave of nausea passed through Poppy's stomach and she planted a hand over her mouth. Suddenly weak at the knees, she stumbled over to the nearest tree and leaned against it, willing the contents of her stomach to _stay where they were._ It was the first time she had ever shot a zombie, and it didn't help that as soon as she had shot the thing she had recognized its face.

Cooper's corpse lay still and lifeless on the ground.

Almost feeling sick himself, Branch wrenched his gaze away and turned to his companion, tone full of worry. "Poppy? Poppy, _look at me._ " Her eyes weakly met his own and Branch scanned her head to toe for any signs of bites or scratches. When he saw she was unharmed, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

With a choked cry she suddenly launched herself at him. The gray Troll caught her and was quick to wrap his own arms around her in some sort of meek comfort. "That was Cooper!" she sobbed into his neck, her tears soaking into his vest.

Branch awkwardly rubbed her back and he pulled her close. "No," he whispered. "That wasn't Cooper. It was a thing that used to be Cooper, but it's not him anymore... If anything we put it out of its misery. Trust me, it's better off this way."

She did not respond, but continued to weep into his shoulder.

A weight settled on Branch's stomach. This was not the Poppy he knew and it pained him to see her this way, yet what other choice did they have? If they didn't kill the undead, then they would die themselves. It was a horrible truth, one Poppy had yet to fully process, but a necessary one. They were on their own out here and it was either _kill or be killed._

When her sobs settled into quiet sniffles, Branch pulled back. Looking her in the eyes he said softly, "It's getting late. We need to set up camp."

She sniffled, but gave him a small nod.

Slipping his hand into hers, Branch guided her away from the lifeless walkers and deeper into the surrounding foliage. Her hand was clammy and clung tightly to his own. He squeezed it gently, hoping to give her some sort of comfort. She did not respond, but let herself be guided along as Branch desperately searched for some sort of shelter for the night.

As Branch scanned the trees and Poppy followed his lead, their thoughts drifted back to the day the _incident_ had happened, the day it all started.

* * *

 _Earlier…_

"Poppy, are you alright?" Creek noticed her melancholy expression immediately as he trotted out from the undergrowth. In a rare moment she had taken a short walk on her own away from the village and settled herself beneath a shady flower. He made his way over to her, sitting beside her with a curious expression.

It was a beautiful warm day. The sun was shining and the plants were soaking up the sun. Distant sounds of laughing Trolls floated from the village, but the princess had her head held low.

"Not really," she confessed.

"What's wrong?"

She failed to find words.

"Was it your encounter with Branch from earlier?"

"Yeah..."

Creek placed a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, Poppy, you shouldn't take his words so close to heart. Like I said before, some people just don't want to be happy, and Branch is one of them. Don't let him get to you. His opinion of you doesn't matter."

The princess let out a quiet sigh before popping her head up like a spring, a smile lighting up her face. "You're right. I shouldn't be moping around like this. Branch is… he's just a grumpy Troll!"

Creek chuckled. "Exactly, he's just a grumpy Troll." In a swift moment Creek leaned over and planted a short kiss on her cheek. " _Boop!_ " he said with a smile as he got to his feet and sauntered off. When the Troll was out of sight, Poppy furrowed her brows once more, her thoughts flitting to Creek.

Creek was every girl's dream Troll. He was kind, smart, wise, calm, and collected. It was no wonder Poppy had a small crush on him, and their relationship was… _something._ Nothing official had ever happened between Poppy and Creek, but it was clear there was some sort of attraction between the two. Poppy often found herself thinking dreamily of him, wondering if he felt the same, and it was only a matter of time before something happened between her and Creek, she was sure of it.

And yet her thoughts kept turning back to Branch. He was everything she didn't particularly like: rude, grumpy, reserved. He _was_ handsome for a gray Troll, she would give him that, but a good-looking exterior didn't really mean anything unless said person was good on the inside, too, and so far he had failed to demonstrate anything of the sort.

 _So why do I still care what he thinks about me?_ she wondered.

Shoving that thought from her mind, she finally got to her feet and decided to trot back to the village, hoping one of her friends would be around to get her mind off the grumpy gray Troll. They always knew how to cheer her up.

Though her friends happened to pick this opportunity to busy themselves with the party decorations, she at least found her father situated at his desk inside his orange-pink pod and decided to see what he was up to. His bushy brows were narrowed, his aged forehead creased in deep thought. Absentmindedly his fingers drummed against the wooden top.

"Everything ok, Dad?" Poppy inquired. Always so jolly, it was rather unbecoming to see her father with such a frown on his face.

"Oh, hello dear," he murmured. "Yes, everything's alright."

The princess planted a hand on her hip. "Ok, you and I both know that face means something's wrong."

"What face?"

"That frown. You always get it when you're worried about something."

"Oh..." Peppy chuckled. "You're right, Poppy. You know, your mother used to say the same thing whenever she sensed I was upset."

An awkward silence filled the air as Poppy wasn't sure how to respond. She barely remembered her mother, her thoughts of the woman hazy and distant, like trying to look through muddied water to the bottom of a pond. She didn't have any unpleasant memories of Camilla, just a very few moments.

Poppy cleared her throat. "...Well?"

Peppey's finger drumming stopped. "Oh, it's nothing really."

"Come on, Dad. I can tell you're upset about something. Please tell me?" She pouted, putting on her best puppy face.

The king chuckled. He could never say no to her adorable expressions. "Alright," he began. "Well… some of the Trolls have been… disappearing."

Poppy's brows shot up to her hairline. " _Disappearing?_ "

"Yes, Poppy. Mandy hasn't been seen in a week and I'm pretty sure Arabesque hasn't shown his face in the last couple days either. I've had their friends ask around if they've been heard from, but so far not much luck."

Worry flitted across Poppy's face for the briefest moment. This wasn't like anyone she knew aside from Branch, but she quickly shook her head in disbelief. With a nervous laugh and a big smile she poked her father's side. "Oh, Dad, I'm sure they're just out exploring or something! I mean, we _do_ have some very adventurous Trolls in the village. There's Aspen, Karma, Moxie, Scarlet, Rudy... they're all pretty adventurous. Even Branch frequents the forest a lot! It wouldn't surprise me if some of them are just off exploring."

The king let out a slow sigh. "I suppose you're right, Poppy. I do worry too much sometimes."

Wrapping her father in a hug, Poppy smiled and replied, "It'll be ok, Dad. They're fine, I'm sure of it. Now, stop worrying and let's get ready for the party tonight!"

Though Peppy stood up and followed her toward the party preparations, the worry still wouldn't leave his mind.

None of the Trolls who had disappeared were particularly adventurous, but Peppy tried his best to push those thoughts away.

* * *

The party was in full swing. From a small cliff overlooking the village, Branch observed the crowd of Trolls dancing with each other, dancing around each other, dancing like there was no tomorrow. Creek was launching glitter into the crowd and at one point even launched Smidge into the air. She had merely grinned and kept on dancing like the tough Troll she was.

The night air was pleasant and would have been quiet if not for the party thundering feet below Branch's perch. He rolled his eyes and was just about to turn and wander off when a sudden flash of movement caught his eye.

It was a strangely discolored figure on the edge of the crowd of Trolls down below. Its body was a curious dull gray like his own, yet its movements were odd. It wasn't dancing like the others in the crowd. It was limping, trudging along as if injured. Its eyes were like the ghostly color of milk, no pupils as far as he could see.

His eyes suddenly widened and Branch dropped the sticks he was holding,

* * *

"Ok, everyone, I just want to take a moment and get a little real," Poppy called over the dancing crowd. A hush rang through them as tthey eagerly awaited the speech of the princess herself.

"I would like to take this moment to celebrate our king." Poppy and the king exchanged a heartwarming smile. "My father, who on this very day twenty years ago saved us from those dreaded-"

Someone screamed. Whipping to look into the crowd, Poppy and her father spotted a few gray figures were amongst the Trolls, pacing and sprinting about. About the size of a Troll, the things growled and moaned like animals. Like a Troll they had hair, but it was a deathly gray, some even black. Their mouths hung open, arms outstretched and reaching toward the crowd. A look of horror dawned on everyone's faces when one of the figures suddenly dove foreward and sank its teeth into a female Troll.

More screams joined others. The crowd turned to panic. These gray _things_ were suddenly attacking everything and everyone in sight, biting and clawing at her friends. Poppy's mouth dropped open as all those on the ground scattered in a vain attempt to escape the creatures.

A flurry of black hair suddenly latched onto the edge of the stage and hoisted a gray body onto the stage. It was a Troll, but not like any Troll she had ever seen. Its eyes were milky and murderous, like glue covering its pupils, and its skin had a sunken, gaunt look to it. The creature went straight for Poppy, mouth wide open and hands outstretched to grab her with its pale fingers.

Screaming, Poppy stumbled backward in an attempt to put distance between her and this _thing_ that looked like one she would call a friend.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Peppy was suddenly between her and the creature. The old man whacked the thing's face with his cane. It howled and lunged toward the king's makeshift weapon, yanking it out of his hands and snapping it like a twig. Peppy stumbled backward from the lack of support and it was only a matter of milliseconds when the creature found his arm and chomped down.

"DAD!" Poppy screamed, her voice cracking.

Something whizzed through the air and struck the creature in its side. It let out a bloodcurdling scream as the projectile sent it hurdling sideways . Chills traveled down Poppy's spine, but she ignored them and knelt down to cradle her injured father.

Peppy's breath was weak and faint. "Poppy," he wheezed. "I… I don't think… I..."

"No, don't you dare say anything like that!" yelled his daughter, touching her hand against his cheek. "Dad, you're going to be ok! It's alright, we'll figure this out!"

"POPPY, GET AWAY FROM HIM!" A new voice rang in her ears. Branch was at her side, yanking her back.

"LET ME GO!" she screamed, fighting against his strong grip.

He refused to release her arm. "Poppy, listen to me!" he cried in desperation. "We need to get out of here. It's too dangerous!"

" _No!"_

"Look around, Poppy. Something very bad is happening right now, but if we stay here we're only going to become victims ourselves!"

Poppy turned to stare at her father. He was lying on his back, curled in pain around his wounded hand. Suddenly his colors began to fade, like some twisted sickness invading his body. His eyes glossed over and his body took on the same gaunt look the other creatures had. He sat up and began to make his way toward his daughter, mouth open and head lolled to the side with fingers outstretched just like the other creatures.

The princess let out a scream and Branch, wincing in pain, pulled her away from the thing that once was Peppy.

Poppy found herself being yanked unceremoniously by Branch away from the desperate crowd and into the undergrowth of the surrounding trees. "Where are we going?" she demanded.

"To my bunker!" he yelled back. "It's the safest place to be!"

But luck was not on their side as the two found a group of familiar gray moaning creatures pacing around the " _GO AWAY"_ mat marking the entrance to the bunker. Sensing two uninfected souls nearby, the ghastly gray Trolls advanced upon the two, mouths smacking together eagerly. Poppy shuddered. They were like savage animals advancing upon prey, monsters with nothing but a mind to kill and eat.

With a flick of his arm Branch had a crossbolt imbedded into the nearest creature's head. It toppled forward, letting out the most unearthly moan Poppy had never heard before in her life. She shuddered a second time, nausea roiling in her gut.

More creatures appeared from the foliage. "Change of plans!" Branch said, taking Poppy's hand.

"What change of plans?"

" _This_ change of plan!" With a squeak Poppy was yanked again away from the creatures and into more trees.

" _RUN!"_ Branch screamed at her as he took her hand and pulled her along.

Poppy frowned. They were headed _away_ from his bunker now, not _toward_ it, but she barely had time to process that thought as Branch encouraged her along.

Confused as hair but too frightened to think logically, together they booked it into the trees, away from Branch's bunker, and out of the territory of Troll Village. Poppy sneaked a look at her companion. His features was hard and steeled, nothing but determination in his face.

She glanced back toward the village, but it hardly mattered now. All she saw were trees and foliage with the distant echoes of screaming Trolls ringing in her ears. The lights of the party were still gleaming in the distance.


	2. Stuck with Gray

**A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for all the positive reviews! I love writing this story and I have so much plot to cover and such a journey to take these characters on :D**

 **Please read and review. It is very much appreciated! I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Stuck with Gray**

They ran, foliage and night air whipping past them. Branch's hand had a firm grasp on her own, and he pulled her along at astonishing speed.

"Branch, slow down!" Poppy wheezed as her breath grew short. Branch was more accustomed to constant movement and the long trek failed to faze him as much as it did his companion.

His steps slowed, coming to a sudden halt in the middle of a clearing in the forest. The night air was cool, but comfortable. Crickets chirped quietly around them as the flowers squinted curiously at the two Trolls interrupting their nocturnal hibernation. Bright, blue, and full, the moon cast its deep pale glow upon the clearing, illuminating Branch and Poppy clearly, though Branch stood out less due to his monochrome coloring.

"What's wrong?" inquired the gray Troll, stepping back to look her over for any signs of distress.

"I'm… just out… of breath..." Plopping down to sit on her knees, the princess inhaled several deep gulps of air through her mouth.

"We need to keep going," Branch urged.

Poppy shot up her hands with a frown. "Wait, wait, _wait,_ are you just going to ignore what happened back there?" An obvious quiver could be heard in her tone. "Branch, what in _hair_ is happening?"

"I… I don't know," he confessed.

"What do you mean you ' _don't know'?_ Our village was just attacked by a bunch of sick gray Trolls and you don't know what's going on?" She pointed an accusing finger at his face. "Aren't you supposed to be the survivalist, the ' _I-know-everything'_ Troll?"

"Woah, hang on!" His brows were furrowed in a deep glare, forehead crinkled and eyes squinting. "I don't know everything. I just know that whatever happened back there is dangerous and needs to be avoided."

"Then what DID happen?"

" _I don't know!"_ Throwing up his hands, Branch began to pace back and forth, grumbling incoherently under his breath. "I'm prepared for Bergens, most natural disasters, starvation, but _that?"_ He thrust his hand in the direction they had just ran from, toward the infected village. " _This_ is not what I ever thought would happen!"

Losing her irritation, Poppy murmured in a shaky voice, "What even is… _this?_ Branch, what's happened to them?"

He looked somber. "I… I don't know. It's like, like they're _infected_ somehow, like they're alive, but… not."

"They're like those stories of walking dead you hear when you're little," spoke his companion, more to herself than him. She turned to look him. "When they bite you, you turn into one of them."

Branch raised a brow, crossing his arms. "Like zombies?" he suggested with a hint of disbelief. "Oh, come on, Poppy. This isn't some spooky Trolloween story. There has to be some kind of illness that's going around-"

"Well, if it's a sickness then there's gotta be a cure for it!" she interrupted, a hint of hope in her voice.

Letting out a groan, Branch rubbed his palm against his forehead. "And how do you expect to do that?" he inquired, voice dripping with sarcasm. "We have no idea what this is and you can't exactly go up one of those things and say, ' _Hey, can I study you? I just have to find a cure for your rabid behavior!'_ "

A scowl crossed his companion's face. "Ok then, mister," she stated. "What do we do?"

"We get as far away from them as we can and survive."

Her mouth dropped. " _Survive?_ That's all you have?" She was suddenly on her feet and in his face. "All of our friends-"

" _Your_ friends."

" _Our_ friends just got attacked by a hoard of zombies and all you want to do is _RUN?_ Are you kidding me right now?" Her voice went up an octave in desperation. She sounded to be fighting back tears and prodded a finger against his chest in growing fury. "I just saw everyone I care about turn into a mindless walking corpse and you just want to ignore them and survive out in the forest? My dad just DIED _,_ Branch, and you're just treating this like it's some kind of everyday thing that happens, like you don't even care!"

She prattled on, tears glittering at the bottoms of her eyelids. Branch found himself inching backward, trying to absorb her words while simultaneously attempting to come up with some of his own. She continued to jibe in his face, forcing him into a corner.

"YOU THINK THIS ISN'T AFFECTING ME, TOO?" he finally blurted with a hard swallow. Stomping his foot, he gritted his teeth and turned to stalk away from the screaming princess. "Don't you _dare_ suggest that I don't care," he muttered, giving her a sideways scowl. "I just watched my whole village except for you turn into vicious monsters!"

Poppy was astonished. Her glaring expression dissipated in an instant. "Branch..."

"Do you think this is easy for me?" he continued. "I don't know if you noticed, but I just shot a Troll with _this_!" He held up his crossbow. "You think I _wanted_ to do that? Well, you've got to get one thing straight, _Princess_ , I may be a grump but I certainly don't enjoy killing my own kind!" He turned away, posture rigid and fingers shaking around the weapon he held. His other hand sat against his side curled into a fist.

This was certainly a side of Branch that Poppy had never seen before. Grumpy was certainly his thing, she saw that on a daily basis, but this was pure _anger._ Branch was upset; he was furious and it was scary.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. Eyes wide, he turned to regard her with a shocked gaze. "I'm sorry, Branch," she continued. "I didn't realize-"

He put up a hand to silence her. Letting out a sigh, he wearily answered, "It's fine. Sorry I blew up."

Poppy's eyes were like dinner plates. Was Branch _apologizing?_

An awkward silence filled the air. The two companions' eyes darted between each other, unsure of what to say next. Chirping crickets filled the silence, daring someone to speak.

Finally Poppy found her voice, soft as it was. "So… what do we do now?" she almost whispered.

"Like I said: we survive," was Branch's defeated answer, his eyes trained on the ground. "This thing, whatever it is, is huge. It's impacted everyone."

"Even the Bergens?"

"I don't know about Bergens, but it's impacted every single Troll and it's possible life will never be the same again." He raised his head to meet her gaze. "For all we know we could be the last two Trolls alive. Right now it's about you, me, and that we need to survive. To do that we need to work together." He extended a hand.

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, but she grasped his fingers and shook them lightly. "Ok." Her response was low and full of uncertainty.

Suddenly withdrawing from the handshake, Branch reached behind his own back and pulled out a second weapon that had been strapped to his shoulder. Taking a gentle hold of her wrist and pulling it toward her, he placed the crossbow into her hands.

Confusion dawned on her features. "What's this for?"

He looked her right in the eyes. "If we're going to survive out here, then you need to learn to defend yourself and I happen to have an extra crossbow."

"Woah, you don't expect me to _kill_ anything with this, do you?"

"Of course not," he replied with a shake of his head. "But without it you'll be defenseless. We don't know what's out here, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Branch, I won't-"

"Do you want to die?"

"No..."

"Then you're going to have to use it."

"But I don't even know how to work this thing!"

Letting out a groan, Branch answered, "I'm going to show you how, of course." He let out a snort. "Do you really think I'd let you have a weapon without a clue on how to use it?"

"Ugh..."

But Branch was already approaching her. Reaching out gently, he used his own hands to guide her fingers into the correct position to hold the weapon correctly. He was pressed up against her side, walking her through the process of handling it safely, shooting, and reloading. She could feel the heat from his body against her own. Something fluttered in her stomach. Warmth rushed into her cheeks.

Her eyes drifted to his own which were trained on their hands as he explained how to use the crossbow. Something was different in Branch's demeanor, in the way he spoke to her. His tone held no hint of irritation and his gaze was relaxed. His eyes sparkled with a glow she had never seen in him before. She got the sense there was way more to this gray Troll than meets the eye. _Were his eyes always this blue?_ she wondered.

" _Poppy?"_ His sudden voice snapped her from her trance. He was looking at her directly with a curious expression, eyebrows furrowed.

She shook her head. "What?"

Letting out a groan, he snapped, "Poppy, were you even _listening_ to me?"

"No..." she slowly confessed.

He raised a brow and crossed his arms. "Fine, I'll explain it to you again, but pay attention this time, ok?"

He explained it once more and Poppy took care not to get lost in his gaze a second time. "So what now?" she asked when he had finished.

"Now we need to find a place to rest for the night."

As the night grew older and the moon moved across the sky, Branch led Poppy even further away from the village until they found another clearing among the trees. Although Poppy wanted to build a fire to spend the night, her companion insisted against it, saying a fire might attract unwanted danger.

After some fuss about sleeping arrangements, Poppy settled down inside a folded leaf, perfect for a makeshift sleeping bag. Her crossbow sat still beside her. Leaning back and staring up at the stars, a small tune flowed softly off her tongue. " _Stars shining bright above you..._ "

"Woah, woah, what are you doing?" Branch muttered fiercely to her. He was settled a couple feet away, his back against a tree with his own crossbow tightly in his hands.

Poppy shot him a frown. "I'm singing, duh!" she sassed. "It helps me relax. Maybe you oughta try it."

"Are you crazy?" He gave her a cold, hard stare. "I'd be willing to bet those walking corpses are attracted to noise. You can't sing out here!"

A groan drifting from her lips, Poppy plopped back against the ground and silently gazed back into the sky. An eternity passed. The princess let out a sigh, rolling over to a more comfortable position. Another eternity passed. She drummed her fingers against the ground. The sound of an animal howled in the distance. A shiver traveled down the spine of both Trolls.

 _DING!_ The princess snapped upward as her colored bracelet chimed its tinkling sound to alert everyone it was time for a friendly embrace. Swiveling her head toward the grumpy Troll sitting against the tree several feet away, the hint of a smile appeared on her face.

Catching her mischievous expression, Branch gave her a grumpy one of his own. "Don't even think about it," he warned.

Sticking out her tongue, instead Poppy turned her attention to his current position. It was odd; he sat with his back to the tree trunk, crossbow gripped tightly in hand. Eyes wide open and alert, he wsa staring off intensely into the distance. His whole posture was rigid and stiff, as if waiting for something to jump out at them.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" asked the princess.

His response was bitter. "In case you forgot, there are crazy gray Trolls running around that could pop out of nowhere. Someone has to be on watch at all times to make sure we don't get eaten alive."

"Aren't you a crazy gray Troll, too?" she joked.

He scoffed. " _Correction:_ I'm gray but not crazy."

She let out a peal of laughter and Branch shifted uncomfortable as something fluttered in his stomach at seeing her wide smile.

"I don't know, you seem a little crazy," she poked. "Always prepared for the worst."

"Crazy prepared, maybe," he muttered with an eye roll.

Silence overtook the atmosphere again. Poppy rolled onto her side a second time, closing her eyes in a desperate attempt at sleep. Sneaking a glance, Branch gazed her still form. She was so innocent, so sweet. _She doesn't deserve any of this,_ he thought with a twinge of sadness.

It wasn't supposed to turn out like this. No one deserved this, seeing their family and friends turn into a monster right before their eyes. Branch was no stranger to being alone. This whole predicament he could deal with, but _Poppy?_ She was far away from home, far away from loved ones. She was stuck with _him,_ and that was something he never wished upon anyone. Even Branch himself could hardly deal with Branch in any form of success. How was Poppy going to get through this stuck in a duo with him?

On the other hand, she probably would have died had he not intervened back at the village. She was too kind, too trusting. Branch let out a small sigh as his thoughts mulled over and over inside his head, wishing at times he could shut off his overly analytical mind.

A sudden shift of movement indicated the princess had moved in her makeshift sleeping bag. He watched her sit up, stretch, yawn, and turn to him, making her way toward him on her hands and knees before settling herself to his right against the tree. Looking away, he could feel her gaze burning into the side of his face expectantly, as if waiting for him to break the sound of silence.

After some vain attempt to ignore her gaze, he turned his head and grumbled, "What? Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Can't," was her answer.

"We're going to need all the energy possible tomorrow. You really should get some sleep."

"I can't sleep right now," she reiterated. "I… I'm just not tired after all that's happened."

Branch let out a sigh. "I guess I can't argue with that," was his solemn response.

"What do you think is going to happen?" asked the princess, suddenly changing the subject.

"Haven't you asked that already? Because I told you: I don't know."

"That's not what I meant. I mean… what will this whole mean for us? What if..." She paused before finally choking out her remaining words. "What if we're the only Trolls who survived? Shouldn't we go back to make sure?"

Her questions were pressing and important to consider, so Branch didn't answer immediately. Instead he leaned forward, plucked a small stick from the ground, and began drawing monotonous circles in the dirt. "I have no idea," he finally replied. "But no, we shouldn't go back, Poppy. That would spell certain death for both of us, and I for one don't think I could bear..." He trailed off, as if catching what he was about to say.

"Couldn't bear what?" She cocked her head, studying him curiously.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

Poppy's head dropped. This gray Troll had about fifty walls of concrete built around his mind, and as long as she was going to be stuck with him for who knows how long, she might as well befriend him. "Come on," she gently encouraged. "What were you going to say?"

"I said _nothing_ ," he snapped a more harshly than intended, turning away and crossing his arms. The stick he had previously held clattered to the ground.

She grew quiet, hanging her head low. Branch sneaked a glance in her direction and almost did a double take. Etched into her face was a look so sad yet so thoughtful. Gingerly he poked her side before hesitantly asking, "Hey… you ok?"

Her head drooped even farther and she looked away, panicking her companion. "Hey!" he cried, placing a light hand on her shoulder. "Poppy, what's-"

"He's dead!" she sudden choked, burying her face in her hands.

"Who's dead?" Branch stared at her in shock. "Poppy, who are you talking about?"

"My dad! That thing just bit him and… he's dead."

Branch's whole expression shifted from surprise to sympathy. No, it wasn't right for Poppy to cry. She was always so cheerful. This wasn't right.

The princess suddenly turned to look at him, the beginnings of tears glistening in her eyes. "Branch, what if we _are_ the last living Trolls? We're all alone. Our friends could be gone! Cooper, Fuzzbert, Biggie, DJ Suki, Satin, Chenille, Guy Diamond, and Creek! What if they're all zombies? My dad's gone. We have no one left..."

Frantically shaking his head, Branch grabbed her shoulders and slipped a hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "No," he stated. "You're not alone. I… you have me, and I'm not going anywhere. We both escaped and we'll both stay together; we'll _survive_ together."

Her eyes gazed deep into his, and something fluttered in both their stomachs. Poppy suddenly shot forward and wrapped her arms around him. Letting out a noise of surprise, Branch snaked his own arms around her back and held her awkwardly.

 _He's not pulling away,_ said a tiny thought in the back of Poppy's brain, but she hardly processed it as her grief took over like a sudden fog. Moisture gathered at the bottom of her lids. She rested in Branch's embrace, taking in the comfort he provided.

Branch shifted slightly, pulling her closer to him. Little bells of caution rang in his mind. He was _holding_ her in his own arms _at this very moment._ Blushing at the thought, he shoved that away from his mind and focused on nothing else but giving Poppy emotional support. He could process his own feelings internally by himself, but the princess wore her heart on her sleeve and right now she needed someone to to support her. It was awkward for Branch himself to provide that, but it wasn't like there was anyone else to help her through the shock of seeing her loved ones die.

She held onto him for a very long time, silently weeping into his shoulder while he thought over their next possible move.

* * *

 _Meanwhile..._

A small figure with hair defying gravity and slightly pointed ears padded steadily through the trees, making its way toward home. The celebration of twenty years without Bergens was tonight and missing the celebration was not on the to-do list.

Yet as the figure made its way closer toward the village, something wasn't right in the air. There was an eery silence. No happy cries of partying Trolls or blasting music could be heard. The air was hauntingly quiet, the distant village lights barely aglow. The figure slowed its pace as it approached. Sneaking through the thick foliage bordering the village, a look of horror came over the figure's face when the state of home came into view.

There were gray _things_ walking around, moans and groans drifting from their mouths. The creatures appeared to be Trolls, but their eyes were glazed over and their skin colored ugly hues of gaunt grays and blacks. The person had seen gray Trolls before, but certainly not like this.

The figure took a hesitant step into the clearing. The creatures snapped their heads toward the colorful, uninfected person and launched themselves forward.

Letting out a gasp of surprise, the Troll dodged the chomping jaws of the moaning zombies, stretching out vibrant hair that grasped the nearby limb of a low hanging branch. The Troll was lifted out of the danger zone, landing steadily on a tree branch just out of reach.

"This isn't right," the figure whispered in alarm, body shaking in adrenaline. "What happened here?"


End file.
